


Stay. Have a cup

by frankcastlesfemfeb (Deathtouch)



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, The Punisher - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coffee, F/F, Ficlet, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 16:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5055565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathtouch/pseuds/frankcastlesfemfeb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Femfeb 2015 | Fanfic<br/><i>discvrdia asked:</i> when it comes to femslash february, i can never get enough norah winters / rachel alves, if that's a thing you'd be open to doing? as far as prompt / setting / plot, i don't have any specific ideas, but i always kinda got sad when i thought about the anniversary of rachel's wedding, and how she'd probably spend it alone, but i think norah would know that it was a rough time and call / contact rachel in some way to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay. Have a cup

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd! all mistakes are my own.

They got coffee together sometimes.

Norah had covered Rachel’s trial in the papers. She’d stood outside of the court building every day at attention. She wouldn’t say she was relieved when Rachel escaped prison, but she understood. She was at that point now, where she understood. She couldn’t find it in herself to condone anything either Frank Castle or Rachel Cole Alves did, but she understood it all to a degree. She understood it enough to write subjectively and keep quite what needed to be kept quiet. 

Norah hadn’t gone looking for Rachel, it had just sort of happened. 

Rachel didn’t fall from the sky with a broken leg demanding help and a ride home, she just walked into the diner one night. The diner was a place Norah knew well because it was open twenty four hours and it was situated right in the middle of everything. No matter what breaking story had just occurred, no matter what act of mafia violence or Punisher retribution had recently happened, no matter which bar or business or building had just been blown up in the never ending gang war… this diner was always just a few blocks away. Rain, snow, sleet, and hail; every hour of day and night… it was open.

The night Rachel came into the diner had been a rough one. Norah had gotten blocked out of a crime scene by the police in the pelting rain. She was soaking wet and shivering, and she’d hurried into the diner to warm up with hot coffee and to wait for the worst of the storm to pass. There was hardly anyone else in the entire place save for some sorry looking homeless man near the back and the diner owner himself. When Rachel walked in it was like the air in the room changed.

Norah had seen her in an orange jumpsuit being escorted from the court room to the county jail’s transportation van. She recognized Rachel by her face, and the soft auburn brown of her hair. Rachel had been in handcuffs with her head held low and her mouth in a tight line every time Norah had seen her before. This, though; this was different. There was no impending persecution or the uncertainty of prison laying ahead; the aura of Punisher rolled off of Rachel in waves. She was a strong, sturdy force in the defeated tone of the diner.

Norah caught eyes with her, and Rachel recognized her in an instant.

Norah wasn’t sure that she was the instantly recognizable reporter type. Ben Urich? Sure, everyone knew that guy. The glasses and the smug look on his face; that was Ben. Norah though, she was blonde with blue eyes and could have looked like anyone sopping wet from the rain and hidden behind the bulk of the coffee mug she was sipping from. She knew right away that Rachel knew her though. She could feel it. She knew.

There was a very serious tension filled moment where Rachel looked right at her, stared her down like an animal with eyes on its prey. This was dangerous for the two of them. If Norah let slip even so much as a word that she knew who Rachel was, or where she came to drink her coffee on rainy nights, Rachel would be in a whole world of trouble. 

Rachel seemed to decide something, and before Norah could stop her The Punisher was sliding into the booth across from her. 

“You wrote about me.” Rachel said at once, simply stating a fact. 

“I did,” Rachel nodded. “Your trial was-“

“My wedding.” Rachel corrected her. 

Norah had written about that too. She set her cup of coffee down and nodded. “…yeah, I wrote-“

“Don’t do it again.” Rachel told her.

Norah was taken aback for a moment. She wondered if Rachel had a gun on her. She wondered if Rachel would make some type of threat. She saw now that there were blood and bruises on Rachel’s knuckles, and that there was a shiner healing on her left eye. This woman was so powerful and so dangerous. It was against Norah journalistic integrity to just agree though. She would write about anything she thought the people deserved to know… no threat Rachel could make would change that.

Rachel got up to leave as quickly as she’d come in.

“Wait!” Norah stopped her.

Rachel didn’t sit back down, but she paused. 

“Stay. Have a cup… on me, even. It’s cold out, and the worst of the storm’s not passed yet.” Norah wasn’t sure what compelled her to ask Rachel to stay. She didn’t want to ask anything that would get herself in trouble, and she didn’t want to do anything that would get Rachel caught… but she couldn’t let her leave yet. Not yet. Not just yet. 

They didn’t end up having any conversation after that. Norah couldn’t find the right thing to say, and Rachel didn’t seem inclined to say anything. She drank a cup of coffee and watched the grey rain pelt the streets. When the worst of the thunder and lightning clapped by she left. Norah didn’t try to stop her, though she did speak up before Rachel reached the door. 

“We should do this again. If you want. If… if you want someone to…”

Rachel gave her a look that said ‘no’, but she came back a week later. 

Norah wouldn’t admit to frequenting the diner at odd, early hours of the morning in the hopes that Rachel might show up… but she was definitely frequenting the diner at odd, early hours of the morning in the hopes that Rachel might show up. It wasn’t so bad. The coffee was fine and the diner was quiet. There wasn’t any wifi or anywhere to plug in her laptop so Norah wrote articles in the notes section of her iphone and emailed them to herself for later editing.

She almost gave up after a week. She wasn’t normally the giving up type; if she was determined enough, she could have spent every waking hour of the day in that diner. It was just that she didn’t know if Rachel would be coming back or not. Why would she? What reason did she have? She was probably somewhere scoping out marks with a sniper rifle. She had better things to do than sit silently and drink coffee across from a total stranger who had analyzed her and written about her life for profit. The more Norah thought about it, the less convinced she felt that Rachel would return… but it turned out she was wrong.

Rachel showed up one night at three am, raw from a fight and vibrating with energy. Norah knew she’d just seen action, she just knew it. Rachel sat across from her and they didn’t speak. She drank warm tea with honey and she slowly decompressed. Over the course of a few hours she went from humming with adrenaline to demure and relaxed. Norah watched her drink and ease back into the world. They didn’t need to say anything. What was there to say?

That’s how it went. 

They didn’t talk, not usually. Norah had a reputation for being nosy, but in this she knew not to press. They sat and they drank and they basked in the presence of another human being who understood the stakes at play but didn’t seem want anything from the other. It was odd, but comforting. It happened once a week, or once a month. Norah was always there, and Rachel showed up as she pleased. 

They didn’t really get coffee together per se, but how else could Norah describe it? They sat in the booth together, and they silently appreciated one another, and that was the end of it. 

There was one night where things were different though. 

Rachel usually commanded the room when she walked in. Whether she had just gotten the snot beaten out of her or not. She owned the air around her. Except for one late night when she sat down across from Norah so quietly, Norah scarcely looked up from her phone. She was shocked to see Rachel across from her. There were no bruises and no fresh blood but she looked beaten. 

“…Hey,” Norah whispered, instantly reaching out for her. 

Rachel let Norah take her hand. 

They didn’t really know each other well enough to be doing this, but it felt like the right thing to do. Norah was glad to offer some small measure of comfort, and Rachel seemed glad to feel a gentle human touch. It had probably been a long time since someone had touched her so kindly.

Three years, Norah realized suddenly.

It had been three years. 

It had been three years since Rachel’s entire family had been slaughtered.

It had been three years since Rachel’s husband had held her and kissed her and told her he loved her, till death do us part. 

Three years. Three years of violence and blood. Three years of being completely and utterly alone. Frank Castle had split town long ago, everyone knew that. Norah wasn’t so sure that Rachel and Frank were friends anyway, more like coworkers. She didn’t have anyone. She was alone, and she had been alone for three whole years.

“Lets get out of here.” Norah suggested.

Rachel glanced over at her, but did not move to reply. She looked so hollow; she wasn’t the woman she usually was.

“We can go back to my place, or at least someplace nicer than this.” Someplace comforting. Someplace that would distract Rachel from what day it was. 

Rachel nodded.

Norah was the first to stand, and she circled around the booth to help Rachel out. Norah held her hand, and Rachel let her. Rachel leaned gratefully on Norah’s shoulder, and so long as her guards were down (or, as down as they could be for someone in Rachel’s position) she let Norah lead.

They got coffee together sometimes sure, and sometimes it was more than that. It didn’t seem like much, but it was; it was so much more.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!  
> feel free to comment here or chat me up on tumblr http://frankcastles.tumblr.com/ask  
> if you have any marvel femslash suggestions, please keep me in mind next february! :)


End file.
